A tree scraped against the lonely window at the end of the hall. The wind whistled loudly through the cracks in the doors, making the whole house seem haunted.
"Yeah?" Phil popped his shaggy black-haired head into Dan's room.
"What?" Said Dan, glancing up from his YouTube video editing software.
"Didn't you just whistle for me?" Phil's blue eyes grew wide in confusion.
"…No…" Said Dan.
"Oh, okay." Phil mumbled. "I'll just be across the hall if you need anything."
Dan thought this was strange, as there was no room across the hall. Literally. If Dan looked out his bedroom door, all there was was the opposite wall.
Dan pressed play on his video, the sound of his own voice filling the silence.
"Did you say something?" It was Phil again.
"Nope." Said Dan, not even bothering to look up. Suddenly, Phil was standing at the foot of Dan's bed.
"I made you some cookies."
Harry's scar had not hurt for 19 years. All was well.